Cynically breathless
by Bubbubboo
Summary: The 5th Quarter Quell is here. "In honor of our annual games, our quarter quell rule has been revealed. This year, each reaped tribute must choose another tribute to enter into the games with them. It is allowed to volunteer for a reaped tribute but not for a chosen one.".
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I do not own hunger games trilogy, belongs to Suzanne Collins et cetera, et cetera.**_

_I'm hoping to make this into a proper fanfic story. Please follow it if you want to know how this ends or you may not find it again :( . Constructive criticism if always good to have *hint hint, wink wink, hint hint* ;) . Later on in the story I think I'm going to chop a huge chunk out and skip straight to the Capitol, interviews, and training unless the train bit proves to be really interesting and actually adds to the story. That all said enjoy the Prologue and please tell me what you liked/didn't like and possibly some ideas I could work into the story :) . Ok now every has been said :) ...and...GO!_

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I've always enjoyed the peace and serenity of the sea.

Well, that was a lie. I thought I enjoyed the peace and serenity of the sea, but in actual fact it was the water. I thought I was never quite sure why- that was a lie too. It's quite simple really. Entering water was as though I could enter a world; a new world entirely. It had the capability to block out this world and I could be in peace. Every tension of this stupid, stupid place. Every sad moment of this stupid, stupid hell. Every death of each year. Stupid. Stupid. All of it vanishes. And you feel...nothing. Just peace. The peace can only last as long as your breath; I've become accustomed to long periods without air. It's painful but it's ridiculously worth it. It's the moment where you're under and everything is around you but it's not pushing against you. Everything just surrounds you lets you float in your thoughts. However perfect it is though, it is impossible to call it a portal because those things don't exist. Not here. If they did every single one of us would be gone 'cos why would we stay? Especially not this year. This year of all those god damn horrific, stupid years. The 5th quarter quell. Damn. I'd give my life for water to be a portal out of this place. That's how much I want it to be true. Except water isn't a portal. Water is a vision of...nothing. For me, nothing is peace. Damn. Damn this world; I want a new one. A better one. Damn this year; I want it to be the last. Of course it could be for me. Damn you water; you could be a portal. But you're not. You're just a short vision into what life could be if we weren't here. You're such a tease. I still love you though. If I didn't have you I don't know where I'd be today. Even short amounts of serenity are enough to help relax. Even if the serenity doesn't last long. I will always, eternally, hold it for as long as possible. So long that once I do give in, and return to the reality hell, that I am gasping for air and life. So long that it will one day leave me _breathless_.


	2. 1 A few little things

Luminous veils of orange are caught up in the clouds. The horizon is outlined by orange which migrates to yellow before mimicking the normal blue patches in the sky. In the epicentre of this spectrum lies a burning white star.

Work starts early but not this early. I always arrive far before the first person simply so I can stare and admire the sunrise and, consequently, the water below.

It is known, throughout district 4, the fishing is split into five different fishing groups: deep sea, coast sea, lake, river and swamp. That is why, I'm told, the shape of district 4 is large and peculiar; to accommodate for the different fishing environments. Because our district is so large, transport is a massive time waster. The heart of our district has the main village where the victors village, justice building and train link to the Capitol is. All the rest of us live in smaller built up villages located close to our designated fishing placements. It's weird at reaping day- beside the obvious danger of near certain death- because you meet people from the other villages. I think the Capitol expect us all to bond but that never happens. Our village is apparently the biggest because we are closest to the sea therefore we have both coast and deep sea fishers. Luckily though there are trains that take the farmed fish to our district heart and so they are used to transport us on reaping day. I guess it would be better than walking.

I drag my hands out from the sand and pat my legs with them. This is my attempt to rid them of bitty sand granules. I pick up a stray dry piece of seaweed and pull it from both ends. It stretches slightly then snaps producing a faint dust. Throwing it away, I cough and pick up another piece of dry seaweed. I repeat the pulling process and it doesn't snap once stretched. It pleases me ever so slightly and I lay it on my lap. My fingers flex as I drive them through my hair and part them into smaller bits. I work repeatedly at my hair until I have finally produced a taut braid. I clamp one hand down on the end, pick up the seaweed strand then tie it around the end as tight as possible. My eyes wonder to my ragged clothes. Everything I wear at work is just for work. If I were to relax in water my hair would always be free. I can't do this at work. I'm not free at work and floating hair is a distraction far too costly.

Footsteps sound as they compress sand. They move away from me and down towards the coastline where I can finally see the first arrival. I think they're called Madge but I can't be 100% sure. It might just be a nickname her colleges call her since she's looks at least 70 but still going strong. I doubt that it's her real name 'cos she has never seemed to like it. She approaches her boat and fiddles inside with the contents. I think I'd like her. Even though I've always seen her here she is normally the second arrival at this work placement. She seems like a hard worker and always comes back with a fair catch. Although, due to the stupid unspoken rule, I can't start any conversation with her. Apparently if someone is older than you and works in a different department then you can't start conversation. I think it's stupid but maybe she likes the rule. It means she'll never have to talk to me and possibly that's a good thing? I not sure. I guess I'll never know. She finishes fiddling with her boat and walks across me to the dressing shed; an old creaky shed that work people can dress in. I do not. I've been in there a few times and I don't see how it's meant to provide privacy at all. A large fish is carved out in the front door that I have felt people will creep up and look through.

My shoulder is abruptly forced forward. I look at it and see a hand. I follow the hand, to an arm, to a shoulder, to a face I'm acquainted too.

"Yes and hello to you too." I say

"Oh is that how it goes? How about: Good morning Dylan! How are you? I'm fine. Thank you for asking. No, you're welcome!"

"You're an idiot." I add

"A smoking hot idiot!" He adds with a chuckle

"You're not that...smoking?"

"Oh yes I am!" He looks at me, face torn between his permanent happy state and disgust. Disgust turns into anticipation. I sigh. This happens almost every morning.

"I'm going to regret this-"

"-but!" He interjects. I look up and smile into his green eyes. My tongue flicks out to dry my lips.

"But," I add to his delight. "But, prove it. Prove that your 'smoking hot'."

I fall back into the sand and quickly cover my eyes with my hands.

"Aw!" He exclaims. "How are you going to see my smoking hotness? And it's not as amazing if you're expecting it!"

I roll myself up and place my hands down by my sides. I am still aware he will at some point express his point but it doesn't seem like it will be now. He sits down next to me. He wraps his arm over my shoulder and keeps it there. I draw a breath in to talk but he anticipates it and interrupts me.

"No come on," his tone sets to serious. "We haven't had a moment this perfect in ages!"

"You mean since yesterday?"

"Yeah! Yesterday is ages away!" His remark makes my tummy warm, despite its cringe-like nature. I nuzzle my face into his shoulder as kiss his collarbone as a reward. A groan of disgust rolls out someone's throat. It's not mine and it certainly isn't Dylan's or I would of felt it.

"Could you two be any more cliché?" Someone pipes up. Instantly, I recognise Maria's voice speaking.

"Yes we could." Dylan replies.

"Oh right! If you two both lived in a magic sugar castle and we didn't live in this dump! Now stop groping over each other and let's get ready for work."

"I'm ready." I whisper into Dylan's neck.

"I'm ready whenever she is." Dylan replies to Maria.

"And there is another cliché! Honestly, I have no idea why I still hang out with you guys!"

"Oh yes you do!" Dylan says, unraveling himself from me. I brace myself and plant my face straight into the sand. "So you can see this!"

I hear Maria suck a sharp breath in through her teeth. I draw my body into itself then push myself up to see Maria's face. She has her eyes firmly fixed on Dylan's now topless body. I jab my finger into two of his ribs because I know he can't stand it. His entire top body snaps in where my finger was.

"I knew you were going to do that! Stop exposing your flesh like that or I'll have to start calling you Finnick," I state. I clap my hands. "Work time."


	3. 2 Salmon in paradise

Dylan pulls the big rope net into our boat. It scrapes against the wooden boat as he pulls it, causing a sound I am all too familiar with. Maria jumps into the boat with even more equipment- harpoons, bait-and dumps them by Dylan's feet. There is even more equipment by my feet. You have to be careful in the boat because of sharp collections of harpoons, tridents and knives. Maria spots Dylan fussing with the big net and tuts.

"Dylan." She states. "We aren't catching any fish today. At least not the big ones. Go get the little net."

"Sure. While I'm at it maybe we could starve ourselves." He mutters, just loud enough for Maria and I to hear. Maria tenses her chest as she builds up for another rant. I but it.

"Dylan." I plead. "Go put away the big net and get the little one. We're majoring in shellfish today."

"But-"

"-Dylan." I respond slightly stronger but soften it with a weak smile. He grunts and pushes the net out the boat and jumps out to trade it for the smaller one. Both Maria and I follow him sulking and dragging the net to the stores. Once he vanishes into the shabby stores Maria groans. She gives no time for me to ask what's wrong.

"Of course. He listens to you 'cos you let him put-"

"-Maria!" I stop her straight away.

She looks at me and rolls her eyes then makes eye contact. I roll my lips in and attempt to bite them in place. Mimicking Maria, I roll my eyes too. She sniggers. I snigger. Our quiet failures of laughter suppression evolve into giggles.

"It's true though." She adds.

"Shut up!" I laugh, playfully throwing a punch into her arm.

Dylan returns to the boat with the smaller rope net in hand. Slightly grumpy, slightly sulky, he throws it into the boat and grabs onto the rear to push it out. He looks both Maria and I in the eye to tell us to brace. I bring my legs up and sit cross legged on the seat while Maria does the same. We both grab onto the sides of the boat, by which time, Dylan pushes the boat out. A low and long swooshing sound can be heard as the boat pushes sand out of it's path. The boat moves out faster as it is released from its sand. Dylan stops pushing. The sharp harpoon slides down the boat, through the spot where my legs and feet were. Sides of the boat bob up and down as it adjusts to it's situation and it now has to support it's own weight.

I look to the shore to see 'Madge' departing with her fishing group and other groups just arriving. They are all early arrivers. Arriving early has its advantages and only disadvantage that it is an early wake up time. I don't really mind. I'm a 'morning' person and I need order. If I don't wake up early then I feel bad. It's hard to explain or determine why.

Dylan has swum up to our boat and Maria and I both offer him hands to pull him in. Like always, he declines them, and uses the opportunity to show off...I'm not sure what. I tighten my grip on the boat while he leaps out the water and into our boat. The very movement rocks it widely. Maria grabs a paddle and passes it to Dylan then she picks another up for herself. They both plunge them into the water and start to stroke their way off to our fishing spot.

It takes a long time to reach our fishing spot. It's one of the reasons why we get up so early. Everyone has their fishing areas and they are vastly large. I heard that once, someone had an area that was right next to district 8. I don't know much about the geography of Panem but I'd expect they had gone far for that spot. Our area is fairly large. The people who are allowed to fish from it are my mum and dad, my older brother Arius, myself, Dylan and his parents, Maria and her parents.

It takes a good two hours to get to our fishing area. To be fair, we do mess around a lot. If we really pushed it we could probably get there in an hour or so. We never have. We normally jump in and out the boat to pick up stuff from the shore: berries, roots, seaweed, leaves. Anything really that we can eat or use to keep us occupied. And we stop in the dead zones to do diving or swimming occasionally. Dead zones are the spaces between people's areas that are too small to become a fishing area and provide a useful border. If you see a fish or shellfish or anything in the dead zone, it's yours for the taking. There aren't many though. Dead zones are essentially picked clean of life but there isn't anything dead in them. It's quite useful really because say you'd swim out of your area unknowingly. After a bit you realise there isn't anything in the area around you so you turn back and go into your area. It's all quite civilised.

"We have arrived." Dylan snaps me out my daydream. I stare into him drearily before he point to the inshore boat wreckage we use to remind us where we are. I smile. I hear a little screech and my attention is drawn to a naked child running out onto the beach. A man, body toned by hard work and labour, stumbles out of the green of the jungle and down onto the beach. From my distance I can see he has been worn down by the little one as he takes a moment to take a break, resting his hands on his thighs.

"Hi Dad!" I shout.

He looks up straightens himself slightly and barely waves his hand to greet us. I roll my head to Dylan.

"Pass your top." I order.

Dylan pulls the dampened rag up over his head and passes it to me.

"Thanks." I reply in gratitude.

I grip it in my left hand and stand up in the boat before diving into the water to swim to shore. I swim up to the shore and climb up the water. My father runs after the screaming child once again. The little one makes a bee line for the coast line but one side step from me means I catch him in my arms.

"No you don't little Sam." I say. He smile giddily.

"Daddy say you be coming today." He giggles.

"Yes, Sam," I chuckle back at him. "But why were you running from him then?"

"He say we go back today when you go back," his smile sinks. "I dun wanna go back. I liked the water."

My little brother Salmon had turned four last week. My Dad and Sam have stayed all week while my Dad tried to teach Sam how to fish. Judging by my Dad's rough looking state I don't think it's been going well. I sigh and loosen my grip on Sam.

"Your going back with Maria and Dad tonight. Dylan and I are staying over night."

"What?" He becomes saddened more by the news. "Why can't I stay over night with you two?"

"Because mummy is missing you," I reply, he doesn't seem to care. I mummer some gossip to him quietly. "And now that you've been gone Missy is starting to think she is better than you."

Salmon gasps.

"Really?" He asks. His face is slapped by shock and taken back by innocence.

"Yeah," I confirm, leaning into his ear. "And I even think she slept in your bed last night?"

"No!" He cries.

"Yes. And you need to go back to stop her! Mum can't control her! But if you don't behave then you can't go back 'cos Dad wouldn't let you."

"No! I'll behave! I'll behave! I'll behave!"

"Good. And the first thing you can do is put this T-shirt on."

I hold out the crumpled rag of Dylan's shirt to Salmon. He takes it hurriedly and pulls it over his head. He does it such a rush that his head goes through the arm hole. I pull it over his head again and adjust it so it fits the correct yay. Even still, the shirt it is long enough to just stay above his knees. Dylan and Maria have bordered the shore with our boat and Dad has walked up to me. Salmon runs down to Dylan and Maria exclaiming "weeeeeeeeeeee" as he goes.

"Why couldn't you have looked after him, Dory?" My dad asks adding how he doesn't understand how they have so much energy.

"You are more skilled at fishing Dad. You know that."

"Oh please. You think I don't notice the fish you get?"

I shake it off and think to inform him I'm staying overnight.

"Dylan and I are staying in the hut tonight. He did something to his shoulder when he paddled us out here. It's better if we rest over night here."

"We?" He pulls out the statement.

"Yes. Maria is great with Sam. You shouldn't have trouble on the way back."

"We?" He repeats.

"Yes, Dad. We can look after ourselves well enough. You should know that."

"Perhaps look after yourselves too much," He mummers. I chuckle. "Well I suppose you could tidy the place up a little. Where did Salmon learn to do all that stuff?"

"He's a kid Dad. It's like imprinted into his brain: run, scream, jump, scream and never do what your parents tell you to do. It's like science."


End file.
